Burning Hope

It’s been a week into September and my Fall semester of college has started. I was happy when I woke up to get out of the apartment and get to school, only because Jamie has been asking me about my actions that night last week. I really don’t want to talk to him about it, so I’m doing my best to avoid the situation all together. Smiling and telling him it’s nothing really and walking away quickly. When I got to the college I couldn’t even focus on how big and beautiful the building was or the students cluttering the hallways. I couldn’t even pay attention during class, my mind kept going back to those drowning questions. I was jumpy and on edge during the day and it made people avoid me. Great, first day of school and people are already under the impression that I’m a freak. High school relived.

A couple days ago Jamie told Richard, Ashley and I about what the Hollywood people talked to him about. They want him to write more of his songs and turn them into hit singles. I sighed in relief because I thought they were going to make him do something uncomfortable. He’s been writing songs like crazy when he’s not bothering me about that night. I’m thankful that has taken up his time.

I stretched my arms before I plopped myself down on the bed. I really don’t want to think anymore, but that’s all I have been doing lately and it’s stressing me out. Hopefully school will take my mind away from things so I can actually focus on what I moved here for. I light knock on my door notifies me that someone is at my door. I hum to let them in and of all people Jamie walks in. He slowly makes his way towards me and I feel myself tense up. Here we go again with trying to get me to talk, but so far it hasn’t worked. I want to avoid it for as long as I can. Well, before I explode and tell him everything. I whimper when he climbs on top of me, pinning me down to the bed. He stares at me with his dark green eyes that are filled with many emotions. Determination, confusion, a bit of anger and pain, I don’t want him to be angry or feel hurt but I don’t want to voice my thoughts either.

“What on earth has been bothering you lately Kyle?” his low voice sends shivers up my spine and I groan.

“It’s nothing really Jamie, honest,” I smile shyly as he situates himself on top of me.

“Bullshit,” he nearly spits, “What happened that night? Why did you suddenly freak out and run?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I sighed finally after staring into his hypnotizing eyes. He rolled off me and groans.

“You’ll tell me eventually,” he smiled slightly, “Or else you’ll explode from holding it in.”

Frowning I know how right he is and I watch him walk across the room to pick up the guitar. I run a hand through my light brown hair, suddenly feeling nervous. His music always awakes more questions in me and at times I feel like I’m overthinking them all. But what else can I do? Don’t people and everyday life inspire your music? So why not question it. I mean it bothers me enough that I don’t know what he’s thinking most of the time and when he writes and sings his songs, I keep making more questions. It’s driving me insane and making me feel depressed. I don’t want to be nosy but I hate not knowing at the same time.

I thought for sure Jamie was going to play another one of his songs, but he just drops the guitar roughly on the ground. He walks back over to me and sits on the bed. His eyes bore into mine and I shrink under his gaze. What is he thinking about now? Why is he staring at me like that? It’s making me nervous.

He closes his eyes and sighs, “Like a foggy mirror where receptions blurred, and things could stand to be clearer. Sometimes it’s hard to look you in the eye,” he said to me, but his words had this tone behind them. It’s almost like he’s talking to me with his lyrics.

“If I could be the man on your shoulder, a God as you grow older. I’d sleep so much easier tonight,” he stares off towards nothing and I sigh.

“Jamie what do you mean?” I asked him, “What’s the point of saying all this?”

“Well, if you won’t tell me what’s bothering you and I have to sit here and figuring it out. Then I’m going to do the same to you,” he snaps and that caught me off guard.

“But…Jamie,” I started but stopped when he goes into his pocket and tosses papers at me. He gives me a look before he walks out of the bedroom.

I sat there stunned. Was it something I said…or didn’t say? I looked down at the papers he threw at me and it suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. Reading over them it slowly makes sense to me. I read the whole song over and over again and what stuck out the most was the second verse.

Your defense, you’ve done no wrong and lived life in innocence. So how could they have looked you in the eye? If I could be the man on your shoulder, to watch as you grow older. I’d sleep so much easier tonight.

I’m so fucking stupid. I have to fix this before Jamie leaves-

“What in the world happened Kyle?” I heard Richard say as he walked into the room, “Jamie just walked out of the apartment saying something about going back to the studio. He kind of slammed the door though...”

I whimpered loudly and fell back on my bed. I don’t want to talk right now about it; I just want to be left alone at the moment so I can get my thoughts together to fix this problem. I felt a warm hand rub up and down my back soothingly and I know it was Richard.

“What happened Kyle?” he asked, “Come on you can tell me.”

“I’m just being stupid,” I mumble angrily, “I got all these questions I want to ask Jamie, but I’m afraid to ask him. Mainly because one night before we all moved out here I couldn’t sleep and I heard him play this song that was reflected off of him and I. It made me questioned it and it’s been haunting me ever since.”

“Why not just tell him you heard him sing that night and explain yourself?” Richard says.

I sighed, “It’s not that easy, plus I fucked up again. Last week I couldn’t sleep again so I went to go get water. Before I left the bedroom I slipped on Jamie’s music and picked up to look over it. It was a song I've never heard him sing and after I got my water he woke up. I asked him to explain what the song meant and he asked me what I thought about it. That drove me fucking insane Richard, like I can’t explain how I flipped out,” I whined loudly as I heard Richard laugh.

“Okay, first of all I don’t even understand the words coming out your mouth,” he sighed, “Just slow down and start again. If you can’t tell Jamie this then maybe telling me this will make you feel better.”

I sighed out in frustration knowing it wouldn’t be this easy talking about this with Richard. I mean I love him he’s a great guy, but it just takes him awhile. Hence the reason why he and Ashley aren’t together, slow on the intake I tell ya!



After spending the rest of my afternoon pouring out what I’ve been feeling to Richard, I do feel slightly better. It’s just that feeling better thing goes away the moment Jamie and I make eye contact. I can see it in his eyes that’s he’s trying to figure me out and I feel even more guilty. I’ve told Richard with ease and he didn’t even need to hear what I had to say since it had nothing to do with him. It has everything to do with Jamie. I’m making a damn problem out of nothing, why can’t I just tell him already? I stomp my foot in frustration and go back into my room. I hide under the covers and felt like screaming. What is wrong with me? I’m making things so hard for no reason. I felt a dip in the bed, but I refused to see who it is. Or rather I know who it is and I can’t look him in the eyes right now.

“I want to apologize for blowing up at you Kyle, it was out of line,” Jamie spoke softly. He doesn’t get that he had every right to do that, “You don’t have to tell me everything. I mean I don’t even do that so I get it.”

He’s taking this in a different light and that’s not good. He’s blaming himself for why I’m acting this way. Well, I mean it is his fault but his fault in a different reason. More like it’s his music’s fault for making me feel this way. Maybe it’s a good thing that I do feel this way, but then again I don’t know.

“That song I threw at you, do you remember it?” he asked as he rubbed my back. I just nodded my head, “I’m sorry I made you read that.”

Now I’m confused. Why would he be sorry about that? He shouldn’t be ashamed of his writings just because I react a certain way to them. I mean for all we know it could be a good thing that it makes me feel this way.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts, goodnight,” he whispers and I feel him get off the bed. I don’t know why I don’t get up and go after him like I should. I don’t know why I lie there on the bed sobbing to myself. I don’t know why I’m acting this way; it’s starting to piss me off.